


Please Don't Revere Me

by DefaltManifesto



Series: 30 Day Song Lyric Challenge [15]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Multi, Polyamory, Retirement, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13028019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaltManifesto/pseuds/DefaltManifesto
Summary: He always thought he’d die on a battlefield. Now it seems that’s unlikely.“I would prefer you die of old age sometime after me,” Joshua says when Gerik mentions it one night after the three of them had found some time to finally relax together."And me,” Natasha says from the other side of the bed.Gerik snorts. “How selfless of you.”





	Please Don't Revere Me

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing today's fic. I applied the word 'art' liberally by applying it to sword work. Today's lyric was from Art is Dead by Bo Burnham: 
> 
> "I am an artist/please don't revere me/I am an artist/please don't respect me"
> 
> Gerik has some of my favorite support conversations in Sacred Stones and I love the idea of him turning into the man who spared him back when he was a young mercenary. So here. Oh also I just like Gerik sleeping with royals I don't know if you guys have picked up on that yet.

Gerik doesn’t forget the moment he came close to death. He’s got the scar across his face to remind him and after the first few years of avoiding mirrors to avoid thinking about that humbling experience, he makes a habit of looking at it at least once a day. It’s a reminder of weakness and a reminder of tenderness. It reminds him of the duty he has to be just as kind and tender when a boy faces him with shaking knees on the battlefield.

He’s getting old, so he’s coming across less scared boys and more over confident men. He puts them on the ground and gives them mercy. Marisa protects his back if they decide to use that mercy as an opening, and he becomes progressively more jaded. Mercenary work is cruel. He’s got enough of a reputation now that he only takes jobs he’s morally alright with, but at the end of the day he’s fighting other mercenaries – men and women who have little else they can do for money.

It never used to bother him, but then, he used to be the same. He used to live job to job, sometimes fighting on nothing more than cold soup. Now…now he’s got a King and Queen warming his bed, enough gold to buy a home and live comfortably, and the ability to take jobs when he’s too restless to stay cooped up. Every job starts to feel immoral. He’s cutting down men and women trying to put food on the table, not because they enjoy it. The thought of stopping though, of retiring…it terrifies him.

He always thought he’d die on a battlefield. Now it seems that’s unlikely.

“I would prefer you die of old age sometime after me,” Joshua says when Gerik mentions it one night after the three of them had found some time to finally relax together.

"And me,” Natasha says from the other side of the bed.

Gerik snorts. “How selfless of you.”

Joshua shifts on the bed so he can trail his fingers up and down Gerik’s spine. “You don’t have to keep fighting if you don’t want.”

“I know.”

 

-.-

 

The final straw hits his back a few days later. Joshua and Gerik spar down in Jehanna’s town square mostly for the entertainment of the people. Where they’d revered Ismaire as something close to a goddess, they love Joshua like an older brother and he never hesitates to sit among them in their homes and taverns. He makes a damned good King.

Gerik wins, but at the end of the day he’s got more experience than Joshua. There’s no shame in it. Joshua and Natasha mingle with the people after and Gerik lingers near a shop stall and watches. No one but Joshua’s personal guard, Oscar, knows that Gerik is the partner of the King and Queen and it’s important to keep it that way. Gerik is comfortable out of the spotlight and the arrangement suits him just fine.

“Damon get back here!”

Gerik braces for impact as a small boy bowls into him, hands scrunching in the fabric of his shirt as he looks at him with bright green eyes. A girl is just behind him, too young to be his mom, thirteen at the most.

“I’m so sorry!” she says, giving a quick half bow.

“It’s no trouble,” Gerik says, kneeling in front of the boy. “How can I help you Damon?”

The boy grins. “I wanna be just like you! That was so cool.”

It’s like someone dumped ice in his veins. The smile slides off his face. The girl grabs her brother’s arm and yanks him back, chastising him all the while as she hurries him away. Gerik wants to chase after them. He wants to shake the boy by his shoulders and tell him to stay far away from his life but instead he feels frozen.

Eventually, he forces his legs to move and slips away.

 

-.-

 

“Hey boss. You and the royals on the outs?”

Gerik chokes on his beer and glares at Marisa who sits across the tavern table from him. Marisa crooks a slim brow and sips her own.

“What makes you say that?” he asks.

“We’ve taken six jobs in seven weeks,” she says. “And not one stop through Jehanna.”

“I…I’m not fighting with them,” Gerik says. “I just have some things to sort out.”

“Love things?”

"You’d help me with that?”

“Hell no. I’d go get Tethys and have her deal with you,” Marisa says.

“Don’t,” he says. “It’s not that anyways.” He frowns at the table and takes a deep breath. “I’m retiring. I think.”

“Ah,” she says. “I figured.”

“How?”

“It’s how you hold yourself. You always looked so relieved to be fighting. Now you look like you want to run away,” she says with a shrug. “It makes sense. You’re settling down.”

Gerik shakes his head. “That’s not it.”

“Okay, then what is?”

“Do you admire me, Marisa?” he asks.

“Of course I do boss,” she says.

“That’s why,” he says, hand curling into a fist.

“Boss?”

“You admire me. People admire me. They think if they do what I do, they’ll save their families or themselves or find meaning but they won’t,” he says. “They’ll just find themselves in a ditch dead because they came across someone with a little more luck and skill. I don’t want to inspire people into that.”

When he looks up, there’s understanding in Marisa’s eyes. It’s a relief to see it.

"That’s a hell of a burden, boss,” she says. “So retire.”

Gerik deflates, head in his hands. “What about you and Tethys?”

“Mmm,” Marisa hums. “We’ve been thinking of doing a honeymoon. We never had a chance when we got married…”

Gerik could cry, knowing he isn’t letting them down with his decision. Marisa pries one of his hands away and holds it in her own in a gesture of intimacy he knows she probably is uncomfortable with and he appreciates her all the more for it.

“It’s okay boss. It’s gonna be just fine.”

 

-.-

 

Retirement is weird. He travels a lot, sometimes on his own but sometimes with Knoll. The Grado dark mages feels responsibility for the state Tower of Valni and so sometimes, they work together on clearing out the hoards of monsters so they don’t spill out into the countryside. It helps scratch the itch Gerik still has to fight. It doesn’t carry the guilt of cutting down a human. The rest of the time, he spends at home.

Jehanna. With his King, his Queen…

He’s not going to die on a battlefield, but this isn’t so bad.

           


End file.
